WARM GREY and the thoughts that excited and inspired us. About painting and the territories between black and white. About a drawing, which is imperfect and unfinished. About met­aphors and signs. About handwritten words as part of an image. About the natural power of mineral pigments and binders. And only sometimes, when a dream has not gone away and a day is still a warm grey premonition, the boundaries between things fade and finally disappear altogether ... Then people seem to understand the meaning of their existence. Some of them even see the threads that connect all living beings and inexplicable phenomena into a single whole. Another time silhouettes of an­gels and Virgin Maries, footsteps of birds, people and all kinds of other flying creatures suddenly appear in broad daylight, in the haze of warm grey ... When a person looks at them, they begin to look like they were painted. When I look at them, I often wonder if someone has made a heavenly collage of summer, burgundy memories, yellow quinces and a blue fox. I even think this some­one is the same one who pours a huge basket of stars on us every night. The stars that twinkle mysteriously in the horizontal world of warm grey ...